We just played a three-map campaign of Quake Wars online. It wasn't pretty.

"It was that clan on the other team," Trevor complains, "They were totally dominating all the maps. That's so not fun."

There were five guys on the other team with [8008135] in front of their names for a clan tag. They had considerably higher scores than anyone else. Every time we turned around, those guys were there, perfectly lined up for a headshot. They stuck together. They never ran out of ammo. When they died, they waited to be rezzed. Two of them were Strogg medics, tossing out canisters of stroyent like candy. When they killed us, they used our bodies as spawn hosts. Their grenade timing was impeccable. On the rare occasions we were able to line up a shot on one of them, they just shrugged off the damage, and then shot us dead.

We started complaining in the chat about the teams. We advocated for separating the [8008135] clan members. We were called "pussies" and "whiners" and "newbs". We called a vote to rebalance the teams. Our vote didn't pass. We were like the Democratic Congress.

"What did those numbers mean?" Mike asks.

"Boobies," Trevor says.

"Those numbers mean boobies?"

"What are you guys talking about?" the new guy asks. He's been playing the Halo 3 game that Douglas left running on the TV. Well, not so much playing as trying to figure out what the buttons do. He's figured out how to switch weapons when: "What's this about boobies?"

"That's what the numbers look like on an olden days calculator." Trevor knows this kind of stuff.

"That's their clan name?"

"At least it's not 'schlub'," Douglas says.

"S. Club," I correct him. "For Shoot Club."

"Whatever. Everyone thinks it's 'schlub'.

"Why don't we play on a non-ranked server?" I suggest, having tried so carefully to get them all into Quake Wars. Now that we've been soundly whipped, they're in danger of being discouraged. It's tough to get people to like the games you like. "That'll make it easier for us to all be on the same team, because we can find a server that isn't auto-balanced. And the people on those servers probably won't be very good." I refrain from adding 'like us'.

"Like us?" Douglas asks.

"Wait, wait, I don't understand. Why would you play on a non-ranked server?" Trevor is looking at me as if I'd just suggested we take off our pants to play Quake Wars.

"It's not like the game plays any different. The only thing you get on a ranked server is stats."

"Exactly," Trevor says, as if I'd just proved his point.

"Why does that matter?"

"Let me show you something. Hey, new guy, come over here. You should see this if you want to know about games."

"Is it something to do with boobies?" he asks, putting down Halo 3, where he has progressed to figuring out how to throw grenades at his feet and kill himself.